


Catch a Flame to my Sentiment

by feeisamarshmallow



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Aromantic Rosa Diaz, Bisexual Rosa Diaz, Character Study, Episode Tag, Episode: s06e03 The Tattler, F/F, F/M, Friendship, relationships, season six
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeisamarshmallow/pseuds/feeisamarshmallow
Summary: Episode tag to s06e03 The Tattler. What happened between Rosa and Alicia? Who are Couscous and Quinoa? How did Rosa end up dating two people, and why can't she make a decision about the future of her relationships? A character study, and a bit of a fix-it fic, because I felt that it was a little out of character that Rosa had two fairly significant relationships going on at once, and I had to flesh it out to make sense of the storyline.





	Catch a Flame to my Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> I felt that it was an odd storytelling decision to have Rosa 'choose' between two dates, especially as one of the first relationship storylines after she came out, and considering harmful bisexual stereotypes. So of course, my response was to play with that story and make it make sense to me. It was important to me to show that Rosa's relationships were both consensually non-exclusive, because I think Rosa 'cheating' is both out of character and plays into harmful stereotypes. Then I got to play with both those relationships, how Rosa would find herself in the situation she did, and shine some light on the closed-off inner world of one of my favourite characters.
> 
> Title from the wonderful Tegan and Sara song "Sentimental Tune".

Rosa felt like the worst stereotype of a bisexual person. Stuck between two casual-dates-who-wanted-to-be-something-more. One guy and one girl, no less. 

It was new to her, to be a little more open about her personal life. But something about the past year, her time in prison, coming out to her parents, had made her rethink her policy of absolute privacy. It was nice to talk about herself a little bit. (Key word a little bit.) 

Maybe that was why she and Alicia lasted so long. Rosa let Alicia convince her to make an Instagram account. Alicia’s hair had tickled Rosa’s bare arms as Alicia leaned over to grab the phone. Rosa had laughed, then, and pulled Alicia in for a kiss. Alicia had straddled Rosa, sitting on the couch in Alicia’s living room, and their kisses grew in intensity until Alicia suggested they take it into the bedroom. 

They had fit together so well. Rosa had talked about her family a little bit. They traded their experiences coming out, growing up as children of immigrants. Well, immigrants more or less,—Alicia was from Puerto Rico. Out of all her significant others, Rosa and Alicia had the most in common, but there was still enough different to make it exciting. Alicia was a delivery person, and a part-time barista, but she was also a comedian. Rosa kept all her personal life in, Alicia found catharsis talking about her life in front of total strangers. 

Rosa took Alicia out on dates, with flowers, dinner, the whole thing. It didn’t feel romantic, per say, but Rosa cared so much for Alicia, it felt good to do something for her, and to do something together. But if she was honest, it helped because there was an end date. Rosa wasn’t good at commitment—there were too many expectations, too many uncertainties she couldn’t account for. 

But then Alicia moved to England. She and a friend had a chance to play some comedy clubs in London and around southern England. Rosa and Alicia had known the move was a possibility for the better part of their relationship, but of course when it became final, Alicia had to go. Even then, they had been stupid enough to try to make it work. And it didn’t, of course not. All the fun had been that Alicia was there, and Rosa was finally a bit more open, and Alicia was so beautiful. Then Alicia wasn’t there and they broke up again. 

Rosa had mourned the break up, another long term relationship finished. On her own, again. And she was always getting older. Even though Rosa didn’t really want children, she did want someone to spend life with, and just like Marcus and Adrian and Dana, Alicia wouldn’t be that person. And deep down, she believed that no one was going to be, it just wasn’t in the cards for her. But at the same time, it was a bit of a relief to go back to casual dating. No expectations, no painful break up at the end, just some fun and a lot of sex. 

She met Quinn at the farmer’s market of all places. (Selling her jewelry, so what? She needed a hobby and the tediousness of hand-making earrings helped her deal with the residual trauma and anxiety of prison). His booth was right next to hers. It was such a perfect meet cute situation it made Rosa gag just thinking about it. He sold kombucha. He had a wrist full of hemp bracelets. Rosa wanted to hate him, and all his pretentious hipster-ness, but he had such a self-deprecating sense of humour he made up for it. He was also seriously hot with a mess of curly brown hair, and a just-the-right length beard, and clear green eyes. 

They knew it was just casual. They had that “we’re not exclusive, right?” conversation the first night he took her back to his apartment. 

Khadija she met online, on a local queer dating site. She balanced tough and feminine in a way the Rosa had never seen before. She was beautiful, with her tightly curled black hair cut short, and big gold hoops in her ears. Tight floral skirts and oversized leather jackets. They got each other’s contradictions. More friends, really, than girlfriends. They spent the weekends Khadija had off from hair dressing school exploring the city in a way Rosa hadn’t for ages, seeking out new art exhibits, local theatre productions, independent ballet shows. One Saturday, Khadija taught her to make jollof rice, and talked about how it reminded her of her mother and her family still living in Senegal. There was a note of sadness there that Rosa understood, the bitter-sweetness of family that may never fully accept their sexuality. They kissed every now and then, but that was as far as it went. Khadija was still figuring everything out, and it felt great to have a relationship that had no urgency, no expectation, just a solidity and kinship that felt only comparable to a few other people in Rosa’s life. 

The thing was, she let it go on too long. She knew she did. She hid behind those first two conversations that neither relationship was exclusive, because everything was just so good right then. It had been so long since things were just good. She was not being convicted of a crime she didn’t commit, not in prison, not in the turmoil of coming out to her parents, not ending a relationship. 

Her relationships with Quinn and Khadija had complemented each other perfectly. She liked them both, a lot, but each relationship felt so different. Quinn was hot and fun and no expectations. Quinn was watching comedies that she never remembered the ending to, because by then they had made their way into his bedroom. Khadija was beauty and friendship and no expectations. She was someone who understood her guardedness, and the inherent badass-ness of ballet. So she ignored the signs that both of them were looking for something more out of the relationship. 

Quinn saw her post with Khadija on Instagram first. A selfie, posing together in front a painting at the MoMA. He messaged her two minutes after she posted it. ‘Who was that?’ he demanded. He knew Rosa was bi, and she thought he took it well. But this was the second time he messaged her after she posted a photo with another woman. (The first was with Amy. ‘That’s my coworker, she’s married to another detective,’ she messaged back. ‘Oh, my bad,’ came the response). So when that second message came into her Instagram message box, Rosa opened it, and then didn’t respond. 

Then Khadija had tried to make plans for the next weekend, and Rosa turned her down, because she already had a comedy-and-a-little-more date with Quinn. Khadija knew about Quinn, but this time she responded weirdly. ‘I didn’t know you were still seeing that guy,’ she texted back. Rosa didn’t know what to say, and so she ignored Khadija too. 

Things had been good. So good. Why was it all falling apart around her, now? Again. Why did it always fall apart? That brought her up to now. Thursday afternoon in the precinct, anxious mess and stooping to taking dating advice from Charles Boyle. See? She was the worst. 

Charles asked for their names, and of course she couldn’t tell him. Instead he suggested Couscous and Quinoa, which was hilarious because, as far as foods go, it was pretty close to the names Khadija and Quinn. He had a ridiculous binder, “The Boyle Decision-Making Manual”—Amy would be proud. Although, if Rosa was being honest, as ridiculous as Charles was, it felt good that he cared for her. And it even felt good to be open about her personal life, though she would never tell him Quinn and Khadija’s names (or let Charles follow her on Instagram). 

Who made her laugh more? Definitely Quinn, and his impeccable comedic taste, and absurdly overpriced homemade kombucha and stupid beautiful hipster beard that tickled when his lips met Rosa’s. 

Who had softer lips? Definitely Khadija. Her lips were beautiful. Full and soft. The first time they kissed she was wearing purple lipstick, and Rosa was so lost in the embrace she forgot to wipe it off her lips until she got home and looked in the mirror. 

Who would she bring to Cirque du Soleil? As a punishment of course. Quinn, she decided, maybe too fast. A little light-hearted punishment for his inability to believe that Rosa was not dating every woman she had ever taken a picture with. 

She didn’t know why she let it get this far. It wasn’t exactly that she couldn’t make up her mind, like Charles thought. More so that she didn’t want to have to change what she had, both with Quinn and Khadija, and with her routine, with her life. She was so tired of being forced to make decisions, couldn’t she just stay in one, good place for once? 

To be honest, that’s why she let Charles hang her upside down from the ceiling. She wasn’t trying to make a decision, she was still trying to procrastinate making one. All the blood rushing to her head certainly didn’t help make a choice, but it did stop her from thinking about the unanswered messages on her phone. 

The pressure in her head built and built, and eventually she couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped down, dismissing Charles’ protests that his decision-making crap really worked. She would just say goodbye to both of them. This is what she got for being open. Heartache and drama, hurt feelings. This was why she didn’t let people in, it was just easier. Then her phone chimed. 

Rosa looked down at the phone, and saw a message from Quinn. 

“I had a lot of fun with you, but I think it’s time to take a break.” 

Charles craned his neck, trying to read the message over her shoulder. She immediately felt sad, and a little bit guilty. Rosa and Quinn were such a fun, carefree match. And now she could never go back to that farmer’s market, damn it. But she also felt a bit relieved. Charles was babbling about how his methods really did work, leave it up to the universe and other shit like that. On one hand, he really had no idea what was going on with Rosa and Quinn and Khadija, but on the other hand, he was kind of, perversely, helpful. 

Khadija was special. She was beautiful. She made Rosa feel safe. Rosa cared for her, more than just a date, but as a person, no matter who they each ended up with. Rosa actually contemplated letting Khadija stay at her house, and she barely let the squad know where she lived. Who knew, maybe they had a future together? That was hard to admit, for Rosa. Between her past relationships, which always seemed to fall apart, the precariousness of her family relations, and the uncertainty and danger of being a cop (not to mention being wrongfully convicted and thrown in jail), Rosa didn’t like letting herself believe in a happy, certain future. 

But once upon a time, she didn’t like other people knowing she was bisexual, or her work colleagues knowing about her personal life, or going to Charles Boyle for personal advice. Maybe it was possible, that change was good. Maybe she could go from one good place in her life to an even better one. 

She still won’t tell Charles Khadija’s real name. She wasn’t stupid. If this thing with Khadija was going to continue, though, she’d have to think of a more convincing fake-name to tell the squad. But she made sure to thank Charles, because, no matter how weird, he was there for her when she needed it. 

**Author's Note:**

> In my personal headcanon, Rosa is also aromantic. Although it's not explicitly mentioned here, I tried to code all her relationships as aromantic, at least in the way Rosa relates to and views the relationship. I wrote about Rosa figuring out her aromanticism in another fic (We Don't Need a White Wedding), and I personally consider them in the same universe. So, in this fic, she still hasn't stumbled across the term 'aromantic' or started identifying that way yet. 
> 
> Tell me what you think! This is the most I've written original characters in fic. 
> 
> Or come say on tumblr: @feeisamarshmallow


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